White lines, pretty baby, tattoos
|
Don't know what they mean
|
They're special, just for you.
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White palms, baking powder on the stove
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Cooking up a dream, turning diamonds into snow.
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I feel you, pretty baby, feel me,
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Turn it up hot, loving you is free.
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I like it down, like it down way low
|
But you already know that,
|
You already know!
|
|
Chorus:
|
Come on down to Florida
|
I got something for ya
|
We could see the kilos or the keys, baby, oh ya
|
Guns in the summertime
|
Drink a Cherry Cola lime
|
Prison isn't nothing to me if you'll be by my
|
Hey yo, hey yo, hey yo
|
And all the dope fiends
|
Hey yo, hey yo, hey yo
|
|
Zooming my miles in gold hoops
|
You like your little baby like you like your drinks, cool
|
White lines, pretty daddy, go ski it
|
You snort it like a champ,
|
Like the winter we're not in
|
|
Chorus:
|
Come on down to Florida
|
I got something for ya
|
We could see the kilos or the keys, baby, oh ya
|
Guns in the summertime
|
Drink a Cherry Cola lime
|
Prison isn't nothing to me if you'll be by my
|
Hey yo, hey yo, hey yo
|
And all the dope fiends
|
Hey yo, hey yo, hey yo
|
Hey yo!
|
|
We could get high in Miami, uh, uh
|
Dance the night away
|
People never die in Miami, uh, uh
|
That's what they all say!
|
(You believe me, don't you baby?)
|
|
Chorus:
|
Come on down to Florida
|
I got something for ya
|
We could see the kilos or the keys, baby, oh ya
|
Guns in the summertime
|
Drink a Cherry Cola lime
|
Prison don't mean nothing to me,
|
If you'll be by my
|
Hey yo, hey yo, hey yo
|
All the Floridians like
|
Hey yo, hey yo, hey yo
|
All the Colombians like
|
Hey yo, hey yo, hey yo
|
And all my girlfriends
|
Hey yo, hey yo, hey yo
|
That's how we do it like
|
|
Oh, oh, pretty baby
|
White lines, pretty baby
|
Gold teeth, pretty baby
|
Dance the night away!
|
|
-----------------
|
Florida Kilos
|
Lana Del Rey |